


Daughters of the Divine

by ExaltedBrand



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Angst, Eventual Smut, F/F, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Spoilers, Fireworks, Flirting, French Kissing, Heart-to-Heart, Hot Springs & Onsen, Hurt/Comfort, Ideological Clash, Intimacy, Isolation, Kissing, Making Out, Melancholy, Porn With Plot, Slow Burn, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Vaginal Fingering, overcoming differences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:14:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28555959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExaltedBrand/pseuds/ExaltedBrand
Summary: In moments of solitude, Tiki and Rhea’s lives intersect.
Relationships: Chiki | Tiki/Rhea
Comments: 37
Kudos: 37





	1. Time’s Ceaseless March

**Author's Note:**

> Pairing suggestion from [MythicJunkRare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MythicJunkRare/pseuds/MythicJunkRare)
> 
> Loosely connected to [The Proper Way to Serve a Dragon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27471676/chapters/67166566)

The display was nothing short of dazzling. Dozens upon dozens of tiny, shimmering lights, mingling for the briefest of moments with the stars before bursting with colour – with sprinkles of reds and blues and greens scattering across the midnight sky and showering the world below with their warmth. A spectacle well-deserved after such a difficult year.

Tiki had seen so many years come to an end. Most of had them passed without observance; had slipped by unnoticed, with neither festivals nor fireworks to hail the new year. When one lived an eternity, it was all too easy to lose sight of them – to let the years become decades, to let the decades become two decades, then five decades, then entire centuries. The years passed with the regular rhythm of a heartbeat, and precious little could slow or still their movement.

But on nights like these, she had to admit, Askr came alive – and for a few precious minutes, the world _did_ go still, capturing the start of the new year in a perfect picture of celebration. For a dragon, such festivals were an important reminder: a reminder of how momentous an occasion a new year was for humans, short as their lives were, and of how much change a single year could bring. When the years were separated by bright lights and bold colours, chasing away the monotony, it was easier to notice their passing – and to appreciate, in turn, just how long they really were.

And from high atop the castle’s easternmost tower, where the balcony offered views as far off on the horizon as Nifl’s frozen peaks and Embla’s shattered valleys, she appreciated the new year alone.

Alone.

For Tiki, it was a unfamiliar way of celebrating. Before arriving in Askr, she’d clung to every last little bit of companionship she’d had; for while she’d never given the years themselves much thought, nor made much of a habit of honouring them as they came and went, she knew all too well that time was fickle, and that one day’s friendship could be lost the very next morning – shining brightly for one beautiful, brilliant moment before, like the fireworks, they fizzled away into nothing.

She’d spent her entire life in a hurry, rushing from one person to the next, desperate to enjoy their friendship before it could be snatched away. She’d allowed herself to pause, never allowed herself to rest—to close her eyes, even only briefly, and take solace in silence—because the second she opened her eyes again, a century would have passed her by, robbing her of another lifetime’s worth of friends and memories and happiness that she’d never have the chance to discover.

Askr, however, had offered her something very precious. A chance to rest, and a chance to reflect.

Above all else, Askr had offered her a respite from time’s ceaseless march.

At first, it was something she’d struggled to comprehend. It ran so contrary to her understanding of the world—of the inevitable, inescapable laws of nature—that she hadn’t thought it possible. But it was just so. In this world, the heroes like her—for as long as they were summoned, for as long as they remained in the Order of Heroes’ service—would never age. They were preserved exactly as they were when they’d been summoned to Askr, and would remain as such until they returned to their own world. They would never grow old; would never wither; would never be stolen away, so unfairly, as everyone else in Tiki’s life had been.

She had no idea how long she’d be in Askr for. She knew she should have relished the opportunity while it lasted, for every day spent in seclusion was a day that could have been spent with Xane, or with Bantu – with the dozens upon dozens of people she’d lost throughout the ages who she’d finally found again. But somehow, for reasons she felt but couldn’t place, the urgency was gone – the pressure she’d always felt to make the most of every minute, every friendship, every little bit of joy. Askr had come to her like a dream, fleeting but timeless; and it was difficult to feel pressured when it felt as if the dream could stretch on forever. When she was ready, she’d still have all the time in the world to spend with them. She was sure of it.

For certain people, too, it might have been better for her to keep her distance. The obligations of serving her—of honouring the daughter of Naga, the Voice of the Divine Dragon, a relic of an Archanea lost to the past—could stifle a person’s heart, leading them to neglect their own happiness in favour of loyalty and devotion. A human’s life was too short to be entirely selfless.

Perhaps, she’d found herself thinking, it was better this way. To finally take a step back from the world, free of anxiety, and to find a rare kind of peace in solitude.

It had almost been solitude, at least. But she hadn’t missed the footsteps, gentle and measured, ascending the stone stairs of the tower behind her.

She turned her head slightly in acknowledgement, not entirely tearing her gaze from the fireworks. She didn’t need to see them to know who it was.

“Lady Tiki. I rather thought I might find you here.”

The footsteps came closer; walked from the stairs out towards the balcony, slow and stately, before finally stopping at her side. At the edge of her vision, Tiki saw their colours shift in the night – the flash of green hair, just a slightly paler shade to her own, and their robes, black and gold and white.

Very briefly, she saw someone else. Then another firework lit up the sky, casting the world in a flash of red, and the illusion broke.

“Lady Rhea,” Tiki said, glancing across at the other woman. “I must confess, I had expected you to be attending the festivities in person.”

“I have, if not for very long. Such excitement in abundance can be quite demanding. But the people seem to be enjoying it, and that itself is cause enough to be happy.” Rhea’s hands came to rest on the stone railing, and she stared out towards the distant lights. “What do you make of the view?”

“It’s quite wonderful. I shan’t soon forget it.”

“Mm. Nor I.”

Another pause. A cold wind swept past, sending Tiki’s sash fluttering in the wind, but it settled just as quickly.

It was far from the first time the two of them had met like this – met in this tower, on this balcony. When Tiki was otherwise occupied with her duties, Rhea seemed to vanish altogether; but here, separated from the castle’s busiest halls by a labyrinth of corridors and staircases, their lives touched for brief, transient moments. Sometimes, they’d only exchange glances: a polite smile offered in silence as they passed each other on the stairs, brushing shoulders for a single second before slipping out of sight. Other times, they’d linger for longer; would talk of their worlds, their lives, their ideals.

Rhea, Tiki had been quick to learn, was a woman of many secrets. A woman content to conceal all too much of herself beneath her soft, kind smile and her motherly bearing, assuming—or perhaps assured in the knowledge—that no-one else could truly know her.

But for all her secrets, Tiki had seen something in her that she’d recognised. Something she knew all too well. The familiar flickers of sadness in her eyes, and the far, distant longing of someone who had known the pain of losing the people closest to her. Someone who had suffered an eternity of absence.

It wasn’t enough to let Tiki trust her. Not entirely. But it was enough, she felt, to understand her.

Somehow, it seemed fitting that they only ever happened upon one another in a place like this. A tower as far removed from the rest of the world as one could be without leaving the castle entirely.

“If I may,” Rhea said at length, “it seems a strange night to consign yourself to this tower, Lady Tiki. To willingly embrace isolation.”

“Strange, Lady Rhea?”

“Yes. Strange.” She smiled, but the word had a bite to it; an intensity beneath the show of warmth. “As I understand it, you have no shortage of companions from your own world here in Askr – from eras past and present. No shortage of friends, or confidants, or loved ones. Yet rather than enjoying the occasion with them, you seem to be avoiding them.”

The wind picked up again, brushing through Tiki’s cloak, and their eyes briefly met in the darkness before returning to the night sky.

“Perhaps I am,” Tiki said, polite but reserved. “Perhaps some distance from the world is necessary at times.”

“On any other night, I might understand. But tonight, you deprive them of your presence.”

“There will be many more new year’s celebrations to come, Lady Rhea. Countless more festivals, and fireworks, and memories to be made.”

“Is that so? Time’s flow contradicts itself in this realm, but even the surest circumstances can change… so very quickly.” Rhea’s smile broke, turned sad; but now her expression shifted to something earnest, and she forgot the fireworks as she turned to face Tiki. “You ought to treasure those you have. To never take them for granted. Every moment with them is precious, for we can never be certain how much time we have left.”

Rhea was right, of course. There was no knowing when their service to the Order of Heroes would come to an end; no knowing when they’d all return home. Tiki, of all people, was intimately familiar with how uncertain time could be. How fragile all those moments were. For as long as she thought she had—for ethereal as Askr felt—she knew it would never quite be enough.

Inevitably, it would end.

“There is another reason,” she admitted, even as it sounded like an excuse. “To a select few in attendance tonight, I fear my presence would be… something of a distraction. A needless cause for commotion.”

“Commotion? How so?”

Now, at last, Tiki offered Rhea her full attention. Her gaze, too, left the fireworks; and she drew a few paces nearer, closing some of the distance between them. As her hand met Rhea’s on the stone railing, she allowed their fingers to ever so briefly touch.

“Do you never feel out of place, Lady Rhea?” Her voice was low, only slightly above a whisper, but loud enough to be heard over the distant crackles. “As the archbishop of your church—indeed, of your entire religion—you hold a position of unrivalled eminence and respect; of influence, and power, and responsibility. In the eyes of the faithful, you are second only to the goddess herself. With such a position, however, comes a degree of distance. Your followers hold you in the highest esteem, worshipping the very ground you walk on – yet in becoming an idol, you cease to be regarded as a person.” She paused, studying Rhea closely. “Am I wrong?”

Rhea’s eyes flickered, hesitating; then found their strength again.

“No.” Her voice was equally quiet. “It’s quite understandable, of course. Our worlds—our positions—are fundamentally separate from theirs, Lady Tiki. It’s natural to feel somewhat detached. But that hardly means we should remove ourselves from their lives. If they see fit to worship us, it’s only right that we reward their devotion.”

“Even if such devotion robs them of their freedom?”

Rhea smiled again, but there was a quality to it that unsettled Tiki. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Let me offer an example.” Tiki glanced down to the festival once more, then looked—though she couldn’t say why—further back into the darkness, towards the foothills and forests. “There is a woman in attendance here tonight, so I have cause to believe, who served me faithfully in my world. A kind, wonderful woman who has earned my undying admiration and trust, and a friend in every way. I would even venture to call our bond a sort of love, though I’ve always found the word too addled in meaning to use lightly. But in spite of that bond, I’ve chosen to conceal myself from her. To hide my presence here in Askr, difficult as such a task is, and to let her be without me for a change. If our time here is only brief, then I would let that time be her own – not spent in service to me.”

“I see. So you consider service to be a burden to her.”

“Yes.” Tiki looked into Rhea’s eyes. “Whether we would admit it or not—and indeed, it is an ugly truth to face—our very presence pressures them into worship. Even if we seek to reassure them, to implore them to treat us just as they would treat anyone else, we nevertheless represent a conduit to divinity. We stand apart. They cannot help but treat us differently, cannot allow themselves to neglect us even for a second – for dishonouring us, so they believe, would be paramount to dishonouring those we speak for. Therefore, if we cannot change what we are to them, then I think it only right that we offer them freedom by keeping our distance.”

“A most fascinating perspective, Lady Tiki.” Rhea’s smile held, but it was strained at the ends. “Whoever this woman might be, I can see you want the best for her. To let her find her own happiness. However, the kind of freedom you speak of will only condemn her, I fear, to wandering aimlessly – robbed of the purpose you provide her, and ever consumed by the possibility that you may be just out of reach.”

“Then it is my dearest wish that she learns to find a new purpose here.”

Rhea placed her other hand on Tiki’s shoulder, tender but firm. “Perhaps she will. But humans, left to their own devices, will lead themselves astray. They always have. It’s important to remain close to shepherd them; to guide them; to give them direction.”

It was the first time, Tiki silently noted, that Rhea had been made to say ‘humans’ in their conversations. But it didn’t surprise her. To a manakete with three millennia of familiarity, Rhea’s true nature had never been in doubt.

“If you reveal yourself to her,” Rhea continued, “you can offer her that guidance. You can give her the direction she needs – and ensure that she remains on the right path, unspoiled by foolish temptations or dangerous ideologies.”

Tiki shook her head. “That may be your doctrine, Lady Rhea. But for my part, I would prefer not to stifle her freedom by imposing my will upon her. If she wishes to walk a new, unfamiliar path, then she deserves that right. I should want her to follow her heart – just as I should want all humans to be happy and free.”

“You would let her walk a dangerous path? A path to self-destruction?”

“Who are we to decide which paths are worthy? Your words tell of experience, Lady Rhea, so I will refrain from speaking sharply – but please do not think that you know her, or her character, or her strength and wisdom. Humans are not all as alike as you claim. They are individuals, just like us, and they have free reign to make their own choices. If my friend were to choose a different path from yours or mine, it would be no sign of weakness. Rather, it is her right as a person, and I shall respect whatever choice she makes – here, from afar, without intruding or interfering.”

For a moment—just a moment—Rhea’s eyes glinted dangerously in the darkness, and the grip on her shoulder tightened. The cold air bit at Tiki’s skin, almost making her shiver; but she managed to hold steady, evenly meeting Rhea’s gaze.

Then, the moment passed, and the gentle, caring Rhea returned, smiling warmly – as if Tiki had simply imagined anything to the contrary.

“Your heart is pure, Lady Tiki. Unchanged, in spite of your years. In spite of your countless tragedies. To be quite honest, I respect you as much as I envy you.”

She paused. As ever, Tiki noticed, the smile only ran as deep as her lips.

“But, if I may speak freely” she continued, “you would do well to appreciate how very lucky you are. To have a choice in isolation.”

As Rhea walked away, returning inside and descending the tower once more, Tiki found it more difficult than usual to focus on the fireworks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have it – my first chapter of the new year! I'm more than a little bogged down with the joys of academia at the moment, so this fic's update schedule is going to be slightly slower than I'd like, but hopefully it'll be a fun ride all the same!


	2. The Mask of Serenity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a moment of melancholy, Rhea opens up to TIki.

When, just over a week later, Tiki next ventured up to the tower, she found Rhea already present – standing out on the balcony, her cloak fluttering softly in the evening wind, and gazing towards the distant mountains and clouds, lost in a deep, wistful silence.

If Rhea had noticed her arrival, she offered no reaction. No tilt of her head, no shift in her posture; nothing to indicate that she’d been disturbed from her thoughts, or distracted by Tiki’s presence. But perhaps there hadn’t been any need. Whenever one of them retreated to the tower, the other would invariably find them – as if drawn, like a kindred spirit, to their solitude. Just as Tiki had come to recognise Rhea’s footsteps in an instant, so too, she imagined, had Rhea come to expect the sound of hers.

And once something came to be as inevitable as their meetings, there was little point in feigning surprise.

That evening, though, there was something different about Rhea. Something in the way she held so still, captured in a moment of contemplation, that fascinated Tiki, commanding her attention from afar. Her silken hair mingled uneasily with the twilight sky, casting a strange light around her; her face shifted in small, constant ways, the mask of serenity struggling against a swell of deeper emotions; and her eyes seemed more distant than ever, peering beyond Askr—beyond Zenith—to a world impossibly far away.

As she was, she resembled the statue of a goddess. Unknowable, untouchable, but beautiful beyond compare. And when Tiki finally stepped out onto the balcony, taking her now familiar place by Rhea’s side, she briefly felt like an intruder.

Then, Rhea smiled. It was small, and thin, and touched by that same, unsettling quality Tiki had found in it before – but it was enough.

A little too quickly, Tiki felt the uncertainty leave her.

“Lady Tiki.” Despite her distance, Rhea’s voice was unchanged – clear and kind. “It seems we can’t help but run into each other.”

Tiki hummed in agreement. “It’s peculiar, isn’t it? I’ve never heard anyone else speak of this place, yet it has a way of bringing us together. It makes one wonder if it’s merely by coincidence…”

“Coincidence can be a curious thing,” Rhea said. “In many respects, this tower recalls a tower in my own world. One surrounded by stories. It’s said that, upon a certain night, the goddess casts her gaze upon it; and should one visit the tower and offer a wish in their prayers, she will endeavour to see it done. Likewise, if two people swear a vow to one another before her, she will safeguard that vow – and thread together their disparate paths for evermore.” She looked at Tiki, forgetting the horizon for a moment, and her smile widened. “Often, people meet in the tower by chance. But such chance meetings, more than any other, afford the greatest opportunities for understanding between two divided souls. For empathy, if not unity. And just as my goddess is said to weave together the fabric of fate, perhaps our meeting, too, was threaded by the hand of a higher power – if not a goddess known to either of us.”

“Perhaps so.” Tiki’s hands drifted over the stone railing, studying the intricate patterns carved into its surface. “I know precious little of the god-dragon Askr, save for the tales told of King Líf; but if they see fit to place us together, here in this tower, then I should be glad for their blessing. Our conversation but a few weeks ago has given me much to reflect on.”

Rhea’s expression flickered, at last, with some disbelief. “Truly? Have I persuaded you to reconsider, then?”

“With regards to my friend?” Tiki shook her head. “You have not. My mind is made on her account, and my thoughts will not waver. As I understand, she has found her own happiness here. Now, more than ever, I have no desire to meddle in it.”

“I see.” Rhea turned back to the clouds, watching the dusk as it slowly ebbed away into night. “Say’ri. I believe that’s her name, isn’t it?”

Tiki flinched. As the sunlight waned, the wind turned sharply cold; and something darker crept back into the archbishop’s voice.

“I’ve seen her wandering the gardens and halls,” Rhea continued, not waiting for confirmation. “Arm in arm with her new companion. They make for an intriguing couple. A swordswoman, disciplined and dutiful; and a dragon, ancient and wise. Far be it from me to speculate on her desires, Lady Tiki, but… rather than embracing freedom, as you had hoped, it seems to me that she has simply found a surrogate for her affections. For her service.”

“Maybe.”

Somehow, the admission felt like a gentle weight lifted from her heart.

“Then why deny her your company?” Rhea asked. Her voice held steady; but now there was an edge of curiosity to it. “If it’s within your power, then why keep her from the happiness she seeks?”

“Because, Lady Rhea, she seems happy as she is. And because the happiness she and Ena share is entirely mutual.”

Her hands fell still against the stone, and she turned to Rhea.

“Say’ri’s talent with a blade is exceptional,” she said, “but her greatest talents, to me, have always been her wit and wisdom. Her ability to make me laugh, even on the darkest days, and to inspire me with her kindness – to keep me company even as the rest of the world seemed content to pass me by. As such, I confess to feeling the slightest pang of jealousy when I first saw her and Ena walking together. Yet a brief moment of childish envy was nothing next to the joy I felt.”

Rhea looked at her again, and her lips quivered. “Joy?”

“Yes. I had often feared—rather foolishly, really, but fear is often irrational—that her kindness was simply an extension of her devotion to me. A luxury afforded to me by my title that might have been less readily granted to anyone else. But my fears were quite unfounded. While I’m sure she would protest, with blushing cheeks, that her treatment of me has always stemmed first and foremost from service, I saw otherwise. When I saw her by Ena’s side, I saw her offering that same kindness, that same wisdom – even that same wit, which she conceals with all the care of a weapon, sharpened to the finest edge. And when I saw Ena, a stranger from another world, laughing so gently at her words and leaning into her embrace—finding the same comfort I’d found in her—I realised that she has only ever treated me as she would any friend of hers. As befits her nature.” Tiki paused, then smiled softly. “I’m sure, too, that she would have an eloquent proverb to hand to summarise my thoughts: that ‘the river flows only as the channel directs it’, or something to that effect. But so long as she and Ena have each other, I see no reason to trouble her – nor to rob them of the happiness they share.”

A long silence fell between them, and Rhea breathed deeply in the cold, crisp air.

“I will repeat myself,” she said, almost a whisper. “You’re very lucky, Lady Tiki. To have people like her.”

“You’re right,” Tiki murmured. “That’s precisely what I’ve been reflecting on. For as quickly as they leave me, I’ve been blessed with so many wonderful friends. Friends who are here, now, in Askr. If I ever grow weary of isolation, I can be with them in an instant. But I realise that not everyone is fortunate enough to say the same.”

Tiki stepped closer, taking Rhea’s hands in hers. Even through her gloves, she was surprised by the other woman’s warmth.

“I’ve been thinking about you too, Lady Rhea. How you talk of nurturing humans, yet regard them with such disdain. How readily you hide your feelings, closing yourself off from the world. And how often you seem to find yourself here—here, in the loneliest reaches of the castle—as if you feel you have nowhere else to belong.” She paused. “As if you have no-one else.”

Rhea said nothing – but for just a moment, Tiki thought she saw a hint of vulnerability show itself. And slowly, tenderly, their fingers slipped loosely together.

“We may have our disagreements, of course,” Tiki continued. “Our views on worship; on humans; on the extent to which they should be nurtured and guided. We’ve lived different lives in different worlds. I shouldn’t presume to know the extent of your personal tragedies, or to question whether your actions are righteous or not, for my own opinions pale against the weight of experience. But I do know _that_ feeling. The feeling of being denied companionship, and affection, and all the comforts of love and intimacy. Alone, I wouldn’t have been strong enough to weather it all – the emptiness, the despair. I might have lost sight of myself, had I not been fortunate enough to find friends like Say’ri. And I wouldn’t wish that loneliness on anyone.”

“Is that how you see me, Lady Tiki?” Rhea finally asked. “A lonely woman, yearning for company?”

“Am I mistaken?”

The silence briefly returned. Then, Rhea looked down, away from Tiki’s gaze – and sighed.

“No. Not entirely.”

“Then my decision is an easy one. If, as you say, I have a choice in isolation… then I would choose to spend that isolation with you. To be to you as Say’ri was to me, and to offer you a guiding hand. If ever you should need it.”

Immediately, Rhea’s eyes were on her again – and as her lips hovered open in stunned silence, Tiki felt her own smile burning brighter than ever.

“To that end, Lady Rhea,” she said, giving her hands a gentle squeeze, “if you would indulge me, I was hoping you could tell me more about yourself.”

Rhea’s expression drifted through a wave of emotions; through shock, through confusion, through disbelief.

Then, finally, she settled on happiness. A strange, uncertain kind of happiness, tinged with something still slightly wooden and rehearsed – but happiness all the same.

“What is there to tell?” she murmured. “I am the current serving archbishop of the Church of Seiros; but one in a long line of devoted servants to the—“

“Yourself, Rhea. Not the woman you show the adoring masses of your church, nor the false identity you’ve constructed around yourself. I wish to know _you_.”

Tiki, speaking so sharply, had anticipated that her words might have annoyed Rhea, or even angered her; and indeed, for just a moment, those pale green eyes darkened in just the same way as they’d done last time, and her lips twitched ever so slightly.

But almost immediately, the anger fell away – and in its place, Tiki found someone she’d never seen before staring back at her.

And then, they spoke.

“I suppose it was always foolish of me,” Rhea—or, rather, the stranger calling herself Rhea—said. “To think a woman of your years could be deceived by such a shallow guise.”

Tiki offered her a kind look, stroking a thumb against her own. “It’s quite alright. I understood your nature from our very first meeting, Lady Rhea. Those like us usually carry a certain melancholy – in our words, in our bearing.” Her smile grew. “Our hair colour, too, can be quite revealing… though not knowing your world, I was reluctant to draw conclusions solely on appearances.”

Rhea approached something resembling a gentle laugh, then sighed again.

“I admit, I conceal myself poorly. But it serves its purpose well enough.”

“I had wondered… what purpose might that be?”

For a moment, Rhea’s eyes left hers, searching the balcony. Then, they met again.

“Would you walk with me, Tiki? It’s growing rather cold.”

As Rhea said her name, Tiki couldn’t help but notice how much nicer it sounded without the title.

“Of course,” she said. “Rhea.”

Rhea’s smile returned in full; and as they took up a leisurely pace along the balcony, slowly encircling the tower, they linked their arms together.

When, at last, they had settled into a comfortable rhythm, Rhea spoke again.

“You asked why I conceal myself,” she said. “It’s quite simple. I am a survivor, Tiki. One of the very last of my kind – of those given life by my mother. By the goddess.”

Somehow, Tiki had suspected it; suspected that Rhea, like her, was a daughter of the divine. Perhaps she’d learned all too well to recognise the pain of a child without their mother.

But for the moment, she said nothing. She only nodded, letting Rhea continue.

“Once, my mother co-existed with the humans of my world. She treated them with kindness and benevolence, offering them her wisdom; and by her guidance, their civilisation flourished.” Then, in an instant, Rhea’s voice turned sharply bitter, and her grip around Tiki’s arm tightened with barely-suppressed rage. “But they were arrogant. They thought themselves above my mother’s power, and sought to usurp her will with the very gifts she had bestowed upon them. In time, of course, they were taught their place… but as my mother slept, exhausted from war, a small group of survivors found her. They _butchered_ her – fashioned a weapon from her bones and her heart. And with her stolen power… they slaughtered my people.”

Only weeks ago, Tiki would have found Rhea’s expression in that moment terrifying: her eyes blazing with malice; her mouth twisted into a snarl; her calm facade lost to hatred beyond compare – hatred that, pushed any further, would have surely torn her apart.

But now, she could sense the pain behind it. Had her own mother suffered such a fate—had she been defiled in such a horrible, unthinkable way—she may well have felt that very same fury.

Now, she could understand it.

“They, too, were taught their place,” Rhea spat. “But I will never let it happen again. I will never allow them the chance. So long as I draw breath, Tiki, I will make _certain_ that the humans who yet remain stay on the righteous path – never to be led astray by arrogance or ungrateful dreams of ‘liberation’. Only through our guidance—by our teachings, by our designs, by our careful leadership—can peace be maintained. Only through us can the world my mother loved so dearly be preserved.”

Even as she spoke with passion, with such heartfelt zeal, Tiki knew she was wrong. Such control could never be sustainable; for inevitably, as time went on, it would foster the very desires for freedom and rebellion that it was meant to suppress. No matter how pure Rhea’s intentions—no matter how dearly she wanted to stop the tragedies of her past from repeating themselves—it would never last. In Tiki’s experience, the human spirit was far too resilient for that.

But having heard her story, she also knew that Rhea would never change her mind. There could be no persuading her to see things differently; no changing her outlook with a few sagely words. Her pain was real, her anger justified – and no amount of debate could make them any less so.

“I see,” Tiki said softly. “So that’s why you hold them in such contempt.”

“Not all of them. There are some who are loyal; who serve the church faithfully and follow my mother’s teachings. A great many, in fact. But it can be difficult to find love in your heart for them when you know what they can be capable of – and when you know first-hand the depths their treachery can run.”

Slowly, they came to a stop. Beyond the balcony, now, Tiki could see the sprawling Askran countryside: the clusters of forests gathered up alongside the riverbanks, and the streams weaving their way through the hills and meadows. Certainly, at this hour, it made for a beautiful sight. But Rhea’s attention, far from admiring it, was fixed entirely on her.

“Can you imagine, Tiki, how it feels for me to masquerade as a human? To hide what I am? To walk among those same creatures who slaughtered my mother, feigning the love she felt so naturally for them?”

“I cannot,” Tiki admitted. “Not entirely. Because I would gladly give up every millennium I have left if it meant I could live life through their eyes for even a moment – if I could walk among them, as you have, and cast aside my title and status.” She pursed her lips. “Nevertheless… I understand how difficult it must be. Given your history, you have every reason to distrust them.”

At her words, Rhea’s features softened.

“All I want—all I’ve ever wanted—is for everything to be as it was again,” she whispered. “My people, alive and well… and my mother, happy and healthy, offering her kindness as a guiding light. But even here, in this new world, I have to keep up this… _pretence_.” She looked around, glancing up at the starless sky. “Every time I find myself up here—up on this balcony, where the horizon stretches out in every direction—I imagine spreading my wings and taking flight. Soaring over the fields, and embracing a moment of freedom. But I can’t. My true form is great enough to bathe the land in shadow – and were anyone to see me, even at night, it would only cause a commotion.”

Tiki wanted to doubt that anything could be so large. But from the few glimmers of intensity she’d seen lurking beneath Rhea’s usual composure, she could quite easily imagine how imposing she might have looked at her full strength.

Briefly, she let her gaze wander out over the balcony again. For her, it seemed so easy to reach out and touch the world – to brush her wings through the treetops, to drink from the rivers, to dance among the clouds.

But Rhea, having already lost everything, had been denied even that.

As far as Tiki could see, there was only one recourse.

“Then climb upon my back,” she said, “and I shall take you to the skies myself.”

For all Rhea’s practiced composure, she couldn’t hide her astonishment.

“Tiki,” she murmured, “that’s… It’s quite alright. I couldn’t ask you to—"

“Why not?” Tiki asked, and for a moment she sounded rather young again. “I’d be glad to. I cannot promise comfort, per say, but if your true form would draw too much attention, it seems a perfectly acceptable compromise.”

Tiki could sense her hesitation – but in her eyes, tucked just a little deeper away, she could also see the spark of curiosity.

There was a pause. Then, Rhea spoke again.

“Where would we go?”

“Do we need a destination? Often, I find that simply seeing everything from on high is pleasant enough in itself. It’s a valuable reminder of how vast the world is—how vast every world is—and how very easily we can lose sight of it.”

For some time, Rhea stood in silence. Far below, the trees rustled in the night, carrying the forest’s scent up to the balcony, and a few drops of rain splashed against Tiki’s skin.

And as the rain fell, something in Rhea’s demeanour seemed to change.

“Not tonight,” she said. “In spite of my circumstances, I still have a number of obligations to our allies here. A number of duties to attend to. We each must play our part, after all.”

With every word, her smile grew.

“However, should we happen to meet again here in the near future, as I’m sure we will… I would consider it.”

Tiki nodded, returning her smile. “I shall look forward to it, then.”

“As will I.”

Rhea slipped her arm from Tiki’s, bowing her head, and turned to leave. After walking only a few paces, however, she stopped again – and glanced over her shoulder at Tiki.

“As it happens,” she said, “it was my birthday today. Somewhere in the thousands, I believe… though I’ve long since stopped counting. Too often, the day reminds me of my mother – of her smile, and her gifts, and her gentleness. And of the years separating us. I’ve always spent it alone.”

It was curious, Tiki thought, how different she seemed when her smile was sincere.

“Today, though… I’m glad to have had some company.”

For just a few minutes after Rhea had left, Tiki lingered on the balcony – then, as the rain grew heavy, she found herself drawn back inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you all know what's coming next
> 
> (also i guess this counts as a happy birthday fic for both rhea _and_ say'ri since i love them both to bits)


	3. As Winter Turns to Spring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While visiting a hot spring, Rhea resolves to show Tiki her appreciation.

When, all those nights ago, Tiki had first offered to take Rhea on a flight around Askr, she’d been quite sincere in saying that she hadn’t any particular destination in mind. The thought had only come to her on a whim, half-formed even as she’d suggested it, and had really been little more than a way—the first way that had sprung to mind—of letting Rhea enjoy a moment of freedom. A break from the castle’s stifling monotony, and a means of reconnecting, if only briefly, with the life she’d lost to time. There was no substitute, of course, for flying on her own terms: no substitute for the feeling of the wind in her wings; of gliding on the air, unbound and untethered; of the cold mountain air piercing her scales and reminding her that she was alive. But it was as close to the experience as Tiki could hope to provide – and if it could bring Rhea even just a little bit of happiness, then it would be enough.

Yes; once, she’d meant only for something simple. A journey to the very edges of the kingdom, weaving through the clouds; looking down upon all the forests and fields and sprawling towns and villages; circling the highest peaks and gazing out towards Embla, Nifl, Múspell, and beyond; and returning at last to the tower, just before the sun sank over the horizon, to watch the day come to an end. That had, at one point, been the extent of her plans.

Then, she’d stumbled upon a remarkable place. A place far beyond any human settlement, nestled away in the deepest reaches of the Askran wilderness. She’d only spotted it from the skies; had almost missed the shimmer of crystal-clear water, the wisps of steam rising through the trees, the softest hint of sulphur in the air. But it had been just enough to catch her attention – and no sooner had she swooped down into the forest to investigate than those plans had changed altogether.

For all her years, Tiki had only found occasion to visit a hot spring a small handful of times in her life. Once or twice, she’d sought them out on impulse, but most of the time, the opportunity had simply presented itself to her by chance. She and her allies back home had won reservations to the ever-enigmatic Bathrealm by way of gratitude for their assistance; and some months later, when the war had been won and peace had returned to her world, Say’ri had invited her to Chon’sin to enjoy the country’s natural springs in privacy. Often, humans had a habit of shrouding hot springs in dubious claims: talk of the waters possessing vague, mystical healing properties; of natural medicinal remedies soaking into the skin; of their capacity to soothe the soul and mend the spirit. And perhaps it was all true. Tiki may have been positively ancient, but as far as nature’s more obscure mysteries were concerned, she was only as knowledgeable—that was to say, unknowledgeable—as anyone else, human or manakete or otherwise – and if Say’ri, wise has she was, had cause to echo such views, then they couldn’t have been entirely mistaken. To her, however, a hot spring’s greatest benefits were found elsewhere – in how they offered a moment’s worth of peace from the chaos of the world, occupying the mind with a much-needed distraction; and in how they could bring together those who needed such sanctuary the most.

In her last conversation with Rhea, Tiki had been shown more than she’d ever expected to see; had seen a side of the archbishop that might never have revealed itself to her if not for the assured discretion of a forgotten tower. Rhea had poured out her rage, her grief, laying bare the full, unfathomable extent of her pain – and the irreparable depths of her loneliness. Tiki couldn’t bring herself to agree with everything she’d said: not the way she’d chosen to address her grief, nor the attitudes she’d adopted as a consequence of her countless tragedies. But she deserved, at the very least, to find some peace. A reprieve from her troubles, if not entirely a distraction, and a small bit of warmth to shield her from the cold.

And just as she and Say’ri, back in their own world, had sought moments of solitude together in Chon’sin’s springs—Say’ri to escape the burdens of her position and the sorrow of losing her brother twice over; and Tiki to shake off her eminent position for the comforts of her friend’s company—so too could a hot spring, Tiki hoped, provide Rhea with some relief – or, if nothing else, an experience worth the journey.

Compared to Chon’sin’s natural beauty, the hidden clearing she’d found in the forest—the long-dead leaves floating on the water, the snow settled unevenly about the rocks, the smell of the steam just a little stronger than she’d hoped for—seemed almost inadequate. But all the same, it was private. Untouched and unknown. And for a time—for as long as they desired, really—it was theirs.

“A spring,” Rhea observed, sliding down from Tiki’s back as they came to land and letting her white dress join with the snow. “So, am I to take it that you had plans all along?”

Briefly, there was a flash of light as Tiki assumed her more familiar form; and she shivered ever so slightly as the winter air bit at her scaleless skin. Standing so still, she could see her breath in the cold – but the steam, swirling all throughout the glade, swallowed it up in an instant.

“Pray forgive me for my secrecy,” she said, treading up to Rhea’s side. “In truth, I had hardly formed any plan at all at first; but from the moment I found this place, I couldn’t help but be drawn to it. I thought it might make for a pleasant surprise.” She paused; glanced across at Rhea, measuring her reaction. “Assuming you are willing, of course. It’s only a small spring, and I wouldn’t want to impose such intimacy upon you if you find the idea disagreeable.”

Rhea’s gaze lingered on the water, as if reflecting on something. As the silence stretched on, Tiki thought to break it with a few more words; but then, as her lips wavered, Rhea finally spoke again.

“I confess, I’ve never quite had the opportunity,” she said, in a way that did little to answer Tiki’s question. “The baths in the castle leave something to be desired, and while the monastery I reside in has facilities for relaxation, we have strict policies in place forbidding anything so… familiar. Physical contact can tempt behaviour that some might deem improper.”

Tiki couldn’t help but smile. “Is that the position of your church, then? To shun affection for decency’s sake?”

“Not at all,” Rhea replied. “But the monastery is also an academy. Such rules are simply a means of safeguarding the propriety expected of upstanding young adults.” In that moment, Rhea seemed to smile back – and something in her smile captured Tiki’s attention more than usual. “The church itself has no such reservations.”

At her words, Tiki felt a strange heat rush to her cheeks, and she was suddenly quite glad for the forest’s shade. But she had no time to consider the feeling any further, because her attention was quickly drawn by Rhea stepping forward again, moving to the very edge of the pool. She took off her headdress, setting it gently down on a rock – then, more freely than Tiki had expected, she cast off her golden mantle and necklace, letting them both fall to the earth around her feet. Not moments later, her dress and undergarments followed, slipping loosely down her shoulders and melting away into the snow; and just like that, only the flowers in her hair remained, her skin pale enough to let her fade ever so briefly away into her surroundings.

It was remarkable, Tiki thought, taking in the sight of her, that she didn’t even look cold. As if she’d closed herself off; made herself so impervious to the world around her that nothing—not even nature itself—could penetrate her skin.

Then she realised she was staring perhaps a little too intently, and her eyes darted away, suddenly fascinated by the trees.

“It’s quite alright, Tiki,” Rhea said, casting a sideways glance at her, and Tiki realised she hadn’t been fast enough. Her voice was as gentle as ever – but there was an unmistakable touch of humour to it, too. “You needn’t be embarrassed on my account. After all our conversations, we’ve little else to conceal from each other.”

With that, she slowly lowered herself into the water, sinking down until it stopped just shy of her collarbone and letting the steam softly envelop her form. As it curled up around her body, mingling with her ghostly appearance, she seemed to drift in and out of sight like a mirage.

And now she was staring again. But Rhea had given Tiki her approval this time, and so she allowed her eyes to linger for just a little longer.

“What a peculiar sensation,” Rhea said at last, breaking Tiki from her reverie. “I had expected warmth, and yet… it seems more than that, somehow. Like a fire stirred deeper within.”

“Yes,” Tiki murmured, still somewhat distracted. “It’s a rather difficult feeling to describe. But do you like it?”

Rhea smiled, still perfectly serene. She cupped some water in her hands and bringing it up to her face, tilting her head back to let it flow through her long hair and over her cheeks.

“I do,” she said. “The water’s quite lovely.” She turned in place, her skin glistening in the filtered light, and met Tiki’s gaze, stretching out an arm and beckoning her in. “See for yourself.”

Tiki nodded—slightly dizzy all of a sudden, as if the heat was getting to her—and reached down, slipping out of her own clothes: working at her gloves and boots, her light pink sash and cloak, her red dress and her tiara; then finally peeling off her stockings and unhooking her bra. As she moved, folding everything up and leaving them neatly against the rocks, she felt strangely self-conscious – but Rhea seemed to pay her no mind. That, or she was admirably good at hiding her curiosity.

It didn’t matter, Tiki supposed. As Rhea had said, there were precious few secrets left between them. If the other woman wanted to look upon her, she was entirely welcome to do so.

Stripped, at last, of everything but the ribbons around her hair and neck, she descended into the spring to join Rhea – and almost immediately, she felt the warm water soothe and enfold her, carrying away all the tension in her body. It felt different from Chon’sin’s water, somehow; different in a way she couldn’t articulate, and lighter on her skin, but just as deep and rich. She sighed, closing her eyes and resting her head against the rocks, and basked in its heat for a moment, weightless in the water’s embrace.

An embrace. Yes, that was the word for it. The subtle heat, the tenderness, the feeling of absolutely safety and security; as if the world beyond had simply ceased to exist, never to hurt her again. The thought had only briefly crossed her mind in the Bathrealm and Chon’sin, but here, it seemed to stay with her for longer – held in a sort of longing.

Perhaps she had spent a little too much time in isolation. She was starting to miss even the simple joys of affection. Of closeness and company.

As her thoughts wandered, carried away by the steam, she felt someone draw close – felt the wetness of their skin, felt the heat of their breath, felt their body just barely grazing her own. And when she opened her eyes again, catching the green of their hair through the haze, she briefly mistook her—not for the first time—for her mother.

Then, as the steam shifted and shimmered under the few rays of light breaking through the trees, the illusion fell away, and she was alone with Rhea again – smiling down at her with something more than her usual kindness.

“You looked so serene just now,” she said. “I was a little reluctant to disturb you.”

“It’s fine,” Tiki replied, sitting up and looking into her eyes. “I was just… rather distracted by the water. I’d forgotten how pleasant it could be.”

“It is, isn’t it? Even as this is my first time in such a spring, there’s a familiar quality to it. It’s almost nostalgic, in a way, though I can’t understand why.”

“It reminds me of childhood. Of my mother’s arms.” Tiki’s hand drifted up out of the water, coming gently to rest on Rhea’s shoulder. “I dare not dredge up bad memories purely for the sake of sentiment, but… perhaps it’s the same for you.”

For a moment, Rhea’s smile seemed to turn slightly sad; but her eyes, where Tiki had long since learned to look for her truest feelings, burned more fondly than ever.

“Perhaps it is,” she admitted, letting her head tilt slightly towards Tiki’s touch. “When I was but a child, my mother would often bathe me in the lakes surrounding Zanado, our home. The water was nothing like this, of course: it was cold, and even quite unpleasant in the winter, when the ice settled over its surface and the snow piled high… but somehow, when she was there with me, it all seemed perfectly fine. That it was cold hardly mattered, because she was so much warmer.” Again, her smile flickered. “That was a long time ago. But it’s a memory I look back fondly on.”

As they talked, they’d drifted closer together: close enough for their skin to touch, for Rhea’s breasts to brush up against Tiki’s own. It was shockingly intimate – and yet Tiki felt no reservations. If anything, the nerves she’d felt earlier—the pang of self-consciousness—had entirely settled.

Now, there was just the heat. Just the gentle embrace of the water. Just her and Rhea.

“Thank you for showing me this place, Tiki.” Rhea’s voice was soft, barely audible over the water lapping at their bodies and the trees waving in the wind. But this close—as Rhea’s lips fell just short of grazing her ear—Tiki could hear every syllable. “It seems I’ve come to owe you a great deal.”

“You owe me nothing, Rhea,” Tiki said, firm but affectionate.

“Don’t I?” Under the water, Tiki felt Rhea’s hands drift just above her hips. “When I found myself removed from the world, you talked to me. When I confessed to you my loneliness, you offered yourself to me in a heartbeat, even as you had sworn off the company of others. And when I spoke, at last, of matters kept as close to my heart as my mother… you listened so patiently.” As the light shifted under the trees, her eyes darkened, and her tone grew just slightly colder in a way that startled Tiki. “I am no fool, of course. I am well aware that you must think me misguided on some accounts; that you must think some of our differences irreconcilable. And on the latter, I would agree.”

Rhea drew as close as she could be, cupping Tiki’s face in her warm palms, and the sensation sent ripples of excitement through Tiki’s body. The steam was filling her lungs now, clouding her mind; making it impossible to think clearly.

“Were you anyone else, I might have been driven to resolve our disagreements. To guide you into the light, as I have so many others.” With each word, her smile curled upwards with the faintest trace of mischief. “But I think I much prefer you as you are, Tiki. It would be a shame to rob the world of your honesty. And your charity.”

Tiki’s felt her heart racing, but neither her mind nor her mouth could keep pace; and as Rhea’s thumb stroked so softly against her cheek, all her stray thoughts fell to pieces.

She could feel the warmth building between them; the energy, nervous and volatile. For some reason, her chest fluttered with anticipation.

“I cannot say I’ve ever known anyone quite like you,” Rhea murmured. “Our friendship—if you would let me call it that—has afforded me joy that I had long since dismissed as impossible. So… you must forgive me if I think it only right to return the favour.”

Then, with all the fragility of a dream, she pressed her lips to Tiki’s own.

In that moment, everything else seemed to vanish. The forest withdrew, the snow melted, the rocks crumbled to dust; and the water drifted away with the steam.

Tiki’s body had responded instantly – the blood rushing to her face, the myriad emotions flooding her head. She felt dizzy, yet focused; and without even comprehending the situation, she found herself wrapping her arms around Rhea’s neck with a boldness she’d never known before, holding her ever tighter. Rhea’s hands were in her hair, pulling her close and kissing her with a mixture of passion and desperation, and her tongue traced Tiki’s upper lip, then her lower lip, parting them ever so gently. Their tongues met and entwined; and in an instant the kiss grew far deeper, sparking a deep and powerful passion within Tiki’s core.

She had hardly found the time to think; had hardly found the time to understand what was happening, to process their conversation just moments earlier. Instead, her mind was awash with nothing but Rhea – a torrent of images and feelings and sensations all at war with one another. Her smile; her lips; her flowing green hair, so achingly close to her mother’s. The taste of salt on her tongue. The steam rising all around them, framing her skin so beautifully. This moment with her, suspended in time.

Every part of her body wanted more. And her mind, for as little influence as it had left, was inclined to agree.

Eventually—Tiki couldn’t say how long it had been—they broke apart, gasping for air. As the world came back into view, bringing with it the water and the forest and the afternoon sky, Rhea was the first to speak.

“You are… a good woman, Tiki. A kind woman.” Her voice had taken on a certain urgency. A certain insistence. “And kindness deserves something in return.”

For a moment, she hesitated – nervous, unsure. A few words hovered then faltered on her lips, and a new kind of vulnerability crept into her expression, betraying her shared inexperience.

“Please,” she whispered. “Even if it’s just for a moment… allow me to make you as happy as you’ve made me.”

She drew close, and they kissed again, more desperately than before; and now Rhea moved down from Tiki’s hair, caressing her breasts and gently teasing her nipples between her fingers. Briefly, Tiki ran her fingers over Rhea’s shoulders, stroking her naked flesh and softly raking her nails over her perfect, pale skin – then she gasped as Rhea’s hands continued to explore her body, drifting down past her navel and sinking further still.

“Ah…” Tiki moaned. “Rhea…!”

“Yes?” Rhea asked, almost innocently, running her delicate fingers along Tiki’s slit. “Do you like how that feels?”

Tiki didn’t trust herself to speak. Every inch of her skin tingled at Rhea’s touch. Her body felt so hot, so strange; on fire for Rhea in a way she’d never imagined before.

She could feel herself slipping. Surrendering herself to the moment, and to Rhea.

“Tell me, Tiki.” Her voice was soft, teasing; but Tiki could also hear it wavering with the same uncertainty from before – as though she were terrified of going too far. Of losing her affection. “Tell me you want this as much as I do.”

Tiki reached up, caressing her cheek, and as her fingers ran through Rhea’s hair, she felt for the first time the pointed ends of her ears – so similar to her own.

Similar. Not one and the same. They came from different worlds; were different in nature; had developed different ideologies and beliefs.

But in the heat and intimacy of the moment, those differences were unimportant. In the end, they were both dragons – alone without their mothers, and alike in their need for company.

“Rhea,” Tiki whispered. Her throat was dry, and she found it difficult to speak. But with some effort, she found her voice, and offered Rhea a smile. “You needn’t ever worry. Not with me.” She swallowed. “Please… continue.”

It was a strained reassurance. But it was enough. At her words, she could see the weight of worry lift from Rhea’s shoulders – and slowly, surely, she pushed her finger into Tiki, drawing out her arousal. She worked in a rhythm as gentle as the spring, rubbing and pumping and teasing Tiki until she could barely breathe for the pleasure. Tiki sighed, resting her head back against the rocks as the waters churned with their movements, and Rhea’s other hand slid down her thigh, pushing her leg up against the side of the pool and opening her up.

“You’re so beautiful,” Rhea murmured, not quite under her breath; and she leaned down to kiss at Tiki’s jaw, her neck, her breasts. Her touch was delicate, but every thrust betrayed her hidden strength – every subtle movement of her fingers drawing out sharp jolts of pleasure, every slight twist and turn leaving Tiki shaking in ecstacy. Her thumb circled Tiki’s clit, rubbing it with just the right amount of pressure, and she added a second finger, sliding in and out in perfect time with the other, setting Tiki’s body alight with pleasure.

As women, they were equals. But as dragons, so Tiki sensed, Rhea’s power far outstripped her own – and as the steam grew thick and the passion clouded her better judgement, she wanted only to let Rhea take control. To leave herself at the mercy of her desires, and to offer her, in return, the love she’d spent so much of her life aching for.

And just like that, she surrendered.

Her fingers curled, scratching at the rocks, and Rhea pushed her closer and closer to the brink, moving back up to nibble at her neck, sucking and licking and growling with desire. She added a third finger, moving slower but deeper; filling her, stretching her, working her through the brief moments of discomfort into a state of writhing, whining bliss. The water was almost too hot to bear now, but Tiki could feel her body temperature rising to match it, her passion mounting with every second.

“Rhea,” she panted. “Rhea, please… I need…”

“What do you need?” Rhea’s tone was dignified, in keeping with her appearance, but Tiki could hear the beast lurking beneath it. “Tell me.”

“I need— _ah_ …!”

She cried out as Rhea’s fingers hooked up like a claw, hitting a spot inside her so perfectly that her words were stolen away by a moan. She arched her back, shaking, as Rhea continued to work her fingers in that devious way of hers, moving faster and faster with perfect precision. Her whole body tingled with arousal, and she was burning from head to toe with desire.

“Tell me what you need,” Rhea repeated, breathing into her ear, “and I will provide it.”

“I… I need…”

Tiki tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. Rhea was destroying her ability to think, let alone talk. She could hardly bear the pleasure, the excitement, the need for release; and she cried out as Rhea pinned her against the rocks, overwhelming every last one of her senses. Her vison had blurred, her hearing had dulled, and all she could feel was the water, the heat, the desire—

“Say it,” Rhea growled. “Now.”

She withdrew her fingers, and Tiki groaned in frustration, aching for more.

She was bold, certainly. And yet, Tiki couldn’t help but enjoy it.

“You,” she managed. “I need… I need you, Rhea.”

In that moment, the beast seemed to leave Rhea – and when she smiled, it was with all her familiar serenity.

“Of course. I’d offer you nothing less.”

Then, as Tiki teetered on the very brink of release, Rhea gave her a final, hard thrust of her fingers – and threw her over the edge.

When she came, it was quiet and desperate. She held onto Rhea as if for dear life, gasping as the waters crashed down all around her and enveloped her in heated bliss. Her body fell limp, and Rhea caught her as she slid down the rocks, cradling her through the afterglow. And in the heat of the spring, the steam swirling around them, Tiki felt a strange kind of peace.

“There, now.” Rhea’s voice was soft and serene, and it set Tiki’s mind at ease. “Rest for a moment. Regain your strength.”

As Tiki smiled weakly up at her, trying and failing to find the words to express her feelings, she couldn’t help but notice the mischief still present in her eyes.

“After all,” Rhea whispered, “we have the entire afternoon yet left to us.”

Just as Tiki’s breath had finally caught back up with her, she felt Rhea’s hands creep around her waist – then, in one powerful movement, she found herself swept out of the water and back onto the snow. It was cold against her naked skin, and she shivered involuntarily; but as Rhea kissed her again, their tongues dancing in a slow, delicate rhythm, she felt a new warmth flood her body, and a lifetime’s worth of energy returned to her tired, aching muscles.

As Rhea had suggested, they still had plenty of time to themselves.

* * *

“I was under the impression that you had decided to take a step back from the world,” Rhea said, watching Tiki as she dressed. “To find solitude in distance, and to let those dear to you find new purpose.”

“I had.” Tiki pulled her boots up over her stockings, then set to work on her sash, trying to ignore the lingering weakness in her legs. “And I have. On both accounts.”

“Then why this change of heart?” Rhea’s voice was calm and measured, earnest in its curiosity. “Why now, of all times, do you intend to reveal yourself to them?”

Tiki smiled, tying the pink ribbon around her waist into a bow. “The same reason I was drawn to this place, I think. A hint of nostalgia. I’ve enjoyed my peace and quiet, but I’m ready to embrace the world again.” She held silent for a moment, fastening her cloak, then continued. “As I said, I have no desire to rob Say’ri of the happiness she’s found with Ena – but perhaps I’ve been a touch too cautious in my approach. From all I’ve seen of them, their bond is far too strong to be tested by something so mundane as my appearance.”

She turned to look at Rhea, still half-naked on the rocks, and her smile turned tender.

“You could come with me,” she said. “You may well find value in Say’ri’s wisdom, as I so often have; and I should think it just as intriguing to share experiences with a dragon of Ena’s years. I’m sure they’d both be just as glad to meet you – and to enjoy your company as I have.” She paused, and felt some heat briefly return to her cheeks. “Well… perhaps not _quite_ as I have. But I think we’d both agree, when all is said and done, that a day is best spent in the company of friends.”

Rhea laughed, gentle as the wind, and met her gaze in the evening light.

“I’d like that, Tiki,” she said. “I’d like that very much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this one certainly took a while, didn't it? Never have I had a single fic take up nearly two thirds of a month before – but such are the joys of slotting it in alongside essays from hell. With any luck, I might have a slightly less irregular schedule by next month...
> 
> If you enjoyed this story (and if you're interested in updates on my writing), feel free to follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ExaltedBrandAO3)! Until Feb 28th, I'm also collecting prompts for a future daily writing challenge, which you can put in submissions for [here](https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSdDMqhsid775xSnOurOlYPByIqbI9BgZ5R1S85SgCceSyxMXA/viewform)!


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